Another Life
by Asrailefay
Summary: Summary: What if Bill Compton wasn't the first vampire Sookie Stackhouse met? What if some other vamp found our favorite telepathic waitress first, and Eric Northman, as Area Five's dutiful Sheriff, was tasked with retrieving her? Rated T for now, possibly M later.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: What am I doing starting yet another fanfic? Ugh, I really dunno. I'm sure something is wrong with me, or my muse, but this plot bunny called out to me and here I am. Thanks to my betas, rachel olsen-williams and mrskroy. I dunno what I'd do without them cheering me on._

* * *

"Does it… have a name?"

 _Not anymore –_ I thought darkly to myself.

But IT _does_ have a wooden stake tucked up its sleeve.

"You can name it if you want, but I believe that sort of familiarity only breeds attachment. I have preferred to treat it like an object – nothing more than a means to an end."

Blah blah blah.

I'd never been one for mindless banter, or semi-witty repartee. If she was _finally_ selling me to another vampire, then come hell or high water I wanted it to be over. _It's not like I had anything else to lose._ But instead of clucking my tongue – to impatiently point out that time was ticking away – I bit it, but not so hard that it bled. That'd likely be dangerous, given the circumstances.

Who was I kidding?

I prolly had less than hours, possibly minutes, left to live – especially considering what I had planned.

"Perhaps, I would like to find myself _attached_ to it."

The blonde-haired vampire said, as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 _Gross_.

He was pretty much a monster in my eyes; a hot monster, but a monster all the same.

"Whatever floats your boat, Sheriff."

I remained quiet – eyes down- _ish_ – seemingly docile during their whole exchange, as I bided my time.

The _only_ thing I really had on my side was the element of surprise.

I thumbed at the sharp tip of the stake hidden underneath my cardigan, grateful that my vampire master had been dumb enough to leave me alone with a zester – for gosh knows what reason – and a wooden-legged chair. Like I wasn't motivated to escape, or ingenuitive. _Freaking short-sighted idiot_.

It'd been an absolute bitch to fashion a shiv using the two, but it'd been worth it.

 _Or at least it was about to be._

She pushed me forward, abruptly – vampire speed being what it was – causing me to stumble gracelessly towards the _Sheriff_ apparently. Seemingly, she was handing me over without a fight, and without really getting much of anything in return. Honestly, I didn't wanna be worth a pretty penny, but damn if it didn't smart to be considered essentially worthless all the same.

 _Were telepaths basically a dime a dozen?_

Because _I'd_ never had the pleasure of meeting one before.

"Its name."

He reiterated demandingly, crossing his arms about his chest as I heard her huff rudely behind me – obviously and overtly put off by his dogged insistence on knowing my name.

 _Does he actually want to know?_ – I wondered.

Seconds before I decided that thought was just inane, and crazy stupid.

Of _course_ , he didn't, but the possibility he _did_ threw her off for a moment – just as it had me.

I finally had an opening, one moment to take – to strike.

So I did. Pivoting on my heel, I whipped the stake out of my sleeve and plunged it into the chest of my previous captor. I watched as her previously smirking face turned into a scowl milliseconds before she burst into an unavoidable torrent of goo. Feeling free but anxious – and kinda gross. My chest thundered so harshly I thought that I might die, but I wasn't outta the doghouse yet. Letting the physical shock still me only momentarily, I raised my arm once again to take out the _Sheriff_ only to find my whole body lifted, and then twisted around – my hands raised high above my head, wrists pinned against one another – painfully.

Fuck.

I'd completely forgotten about vamp speed.

Slipping from my increasingly numbing fingers, the blood-covered stake clattered unceremoniously to the ground, bouncing tip to base in a reverberating pattern until it stilled silently on the concreted floor.

"Miss Stackhouse."

The Sheriff cooed intimidatingly, his lips dangerously close to my ear – my exposed neck – causing a full-body shudder to roll through me from my head to the tips of my toes.

 _How the hell did he know my last name?_

 _That's_ what had me worried?

Priorities, Sookie!

"Diane mentioned that you were _bad_ , but never that you were so… feisty. I think I quite like it."

"Fuck you!"

I hissed back – self-preservation be damned – as I squirmed in his unyielding hold, his arms constricting in an effort to still me, which in turn caused me to fight against his grasp even harder.

I mean, I'd just finally ended a freaking vampire, so I was thinking death was pretty imminent anyway – why not provoke it?

Staying alive longer seemed like asking for all kinds of torture and pain.

And, in spite of everything, I wasn't a masochist, so no – just no.

As I continued to struggle, his arms firmly tucked under my armpits, the blonde vampire laughed – a full-on fucking chortle – as if I'd amused him somehow, before curling one hand about my neck.

"It would be so easy."

He mused languidly, tightening his grip only momentarily before loosening it, thumbing at the pulse point and unhealed bite marks on my throat – tracing the latter reverently.

Or possibly solemnly.

Truly, I couldn't tell which.

"No one will miss me."

I realized sadly, going limp as tears slipped traitorously from the corners of my eyes – betraying my resolve to stay strong and impassive.

There likely wouldn't be any repercussions, or fallout for the vampire at all in fact.

 _Lucky him._

Gran had died years ago from congenital heart failure – God rest her soul. The chances I hadn't already been fired from my job for _excessive absenteeism_ thanks to Diane and the month she'd spent terrorizing me were slim to none. Ugh, who was I kidding? Just none. And although I had a brother, he… well, to say Jason didn't really care would be putting it mildly. At best.

Maybe I _was_ a bit of a masochist for telling a vampire he'd be a-okay to kill me.

But it was still hundred times better than the alternative.

"What a pity… for you."

He mock-consoled, sliding his hand up to my chin to force my head up and towards him – sarcasm rich in his arrogant tone.

 _I'm pitiful_.

The description felt surprisingly apropos.

"I _should_ end you, for what you've done, for your indiscretion against Diane – a vampire in my retinue," _His what now?_ "…especially since you appear to be little more than a blood bag," _well thanks for that_ – I sneered internally, careful otherwise to hold my tongue, "but you seem to have drawn some… interest from… someone high above my pay-grade," he laughed, assumedly because he'd used a very _human_ phrase, "which prevents me from exacting the justice you have aptly earned."

 _I deserved to die apparently, but I wasn't going to get to experience that reprieve any time soon._

I thought desolately, abandoning all hope as I looked up and into his stony blue eyes.

As the Sheriff's unexpected diatribe ended, he dropped me unceremoniously – fuck vamp speed – to the ground and onto my knees. Ignoring the sharp torrent of pain, I instinctually scrambled backwards and away from him, harshly scraping my elbows against the random pebbles lodged in the dirt. _Ugh, more pain_. I couldn't help but also gasp for breath – anxiety overtaking me – even though he'd never been choking me _that_ hard. But honestly, I found it impossible to breathe at all, as a panic attack swelled and burst within my chest – fear clouding my addled mind.

 _There are fates worse than death_ – my Gran had always said.

As always, she was right.

"You _will_ get yourself under control, Miss Stackhouse."

The vampire whispered commandingly, almost hissing – _like it was just_ that _easy_ – as he placed his cool hand onto my back and began to drag it up and down in nonconcentric circles.

 _No. No. NO!_

This was not happening.

I flinched away from him, even as my breathing became haggard, backing up once again – dirt kicking up into a small, but swirling cloud – while the Sheriff crossed his arms across his broad chest – a universal sign I took as "I give up." Placing my own hand over my chest, my heart pounding against my rib cage, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine my happy place. _Did I have a fucking happy place?_ The easy answer was no.

So of course it didn't work.

"Are you always so fucking difficult?"

He asked irritated, before dropping down on his butt and pulling me like a rag doll into his lap, caging me there with one arm curled about my waist as the other hand resumed its previous ministrations.

 _Depends on your definition of difficult._

I thought in response as I blew out, and sucked in, short steeling breaths, my chest burning something fierce like it'd been captured in a vice grip.

Slowly but surely, my diaphragm began to stop contracting painfully – even stilling to some extent – and I regained the ability to breathe without fear of fainting. The vampire's hand was gone from my back and he was suddenly towering over me – God only knows when that happened – his face awash with anger and something… unreadable. _Ugh, grumpy Gus was_ still _here, gumming up the works – so to speak._

Really, did he ever fucking smile?

I'd bet my life the answer to that was a resounding _no_.

"Now that you are no longer attempting to asphyxiate yourself, Miss Stackhouse," _Oh, is that what we're gonna call it?_ "I would like for you to tell me _what_ makes you so special."

The Sheriff instructed evenly, his nearly hypnotically blue eyes boring purposefully into mine – his altogether lack of a request blatantly clear.

Shit, that Jedi mind-trick bullshit wasn't just something Diane thought only _she_ could pull with me.

Which meant I was in a shit-ton of trouble right now.

"Ummm…"

I hummed waveringly, hoping I sounded entranced or compelled or whatever the hell that look was supposed to accomplish – but also not knowing what the hell to say.

Because I couldn't lie for shit, not even if my life depended on it.

Which it did… so... _fuck_.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Okay, so I am going to shoot for weeklyish postings, but no pinkie promises. Also I promise I am concurrently working on my other stories as well (like We Belong, *cough cough*). Thanks for reading, and extra special thanks to my betas rachel olsen-williams and MrsKroy - my betas and besties. :)_

* * *

Sookie No Middle Name Stackhouse.

Birthday in July, and currently aged twenty-two human years.

Waitress for the backwoods, bar-owning shifter.

Orphaned at seven, and officially a missing person for approximately sixteen days. Although from the pile-up of mail in her box, the authorities suspected she had been gone much longer – upwards of thirty days. Considering how long Diane had been trying to stay off of my radar – having refused to check in in-person for the past several weeks – I was generally inclined to agree.

But, it wasn't Diane's absence that had called the human's presence to my attentions.

No, surprisingly enough, it had been my Queen.

"Now that you are no longer attempting to asphyxiate yourself, Miss Stackhouse, I would like for you to tell me _what_ makes you so special."

I commanded coolly, gazing into her brimming blue eyes as she struggled to regain her steady breathe, willing her into my thrall so I could have my answer and be done with her.

Because Sophie Anne had all but refused to give it to me.

Teasing, _'wouldn't you like to know._ '

"Ummm…"

She stalled hesitantly, chewing nervously on her plump bottom lip in a way that should not have been distracting, but was – causing me to wonder how it would taste if I tugged it between my blunt teeth.

Even without her delicious scent, I could see why Diane had wanted her.

Another time, another place, I likely would have too.

Scowling at the reminder I had been sent to fetch Miss Stackhouse not for myself but for the Queen, I snatched her up by her wrist, ignoring the small yelp that escaped her mouth as I lifted her so high her feet lost touch with the dusty road. Her other hand reached out, trying to find purchase in my buttoned up shirt – pain twisted in her expression, although she did not dare release another sound. Grabbing her other wrist, I dropped her to her feet, pinning her arms behind her back, and pressed her ample bosom against my chest.

"I will _not_ ask twice, Miss Stackhouse. Tell me, or else I will rend you limb from limb. Consequences be damned!"

I growled menacingly – reveling in the feel of her quickly drumming heart – realizing that she had somehow thwarted my glamour, which forced me to resort to empty threats.

I hated empty threats.

They were so much less fun than the real thing.

"I'm just a waitress! Nothing special!"

She cried piteously, the certainty in her voice fake at best, as she leaned her forehead against me – her supple body wracked with sobs.

This would not do.

The lying… or her aggravatingly stirring emotional display.

"Miss Stackhouse…" I scolded chidingly, tightening my hold on her wrists – careful not to squeeze so hard I might cause injury, "we _both_ know that is not true."

For fuck's sake, she had bested a vampire not half an hour earlier.

A fairly young and dumb one, but still.

"You are _more_."

I continued quietly – the threat still evident in my tone, but perhaps less pronounced – deftly moving so that I freed one of my hands without releasing either of hers.

Tamping down the urge to pull her closer or rest my chin atop her head, I closed my eyes for a few seconds.

Letting the night's events replay in my mind.

The deserted road had been Diane's chosen location for the exchange when I demanded she relinquish her unregistered pet to me. Wanting to keep this matter out of the Area Court, unnerved to have other see me acting as the Queen's errand boy – _Did she not have a procurer for this sort of duty?_ – I had agreed. It should have been easy; Diane would give me the girl, I would end Diane, and then the girl would go to New Orleans.

I had expected the whole thing to pass without incident.

But apparently, the feisty Miss Stackhouse had not.

"Look. At. Me."

I directed tersely, curling my forefinger into the shape of a C and tipping her chin upwards – a gesture she attempted to shrug away without success.

"Diane said…"

She wavered, drawing that biteable-looking lip back into her mouth – her skin reddening as though she was experiencing a surge of embarrassment.

Had they been sexual with one another? Was Miss Stackhouse… _shy_?

I found myself displeased by both possibilities, and waved my hand for her to continue.

"She said… I tasted good – my blood, I mean!"

She corrected herself, her pinkish blush deepening to a cherry hue, as she tried again to jerk her chin away – my strong grasp keeping her in place.

The unhealed bite marks.

I had seen several adorning her throat.

Allowing myself a moment to really inspect Miss Stackhouse's neck, I turned her head slowly, from one side and then to the other, as I examined every bit of exposed tanned skin. Diane really had been quite thoughtless, leaving the young woman with several possibly infected wounds that scattered the length of her neck down to her clavicles. I stifled the urge to growl, my beast ignited by the display.

Bites around bones easily hurt the worst for humans.

From the look of it, Miss Stackhouse had been the unwilling recipient of at least two.

"May I?

I asked curiously, dipping my head to press my lips against her sweet-smelling skin – seeking permission to heal the worst of her lacerations.

 _Because the Queen would blame me if she saw her newest pet had been marred by such abuse_.

I told myself unconvincingly, knowing my actions had little to do with Sophie Anne.

Trembling lightly, Miss Stackhouse tipped her neck further to the side, exposing her whooshing carotid artery. I eyed it with appreciative hunger – _was she offering herself to me?_ – mesmerized by the sight of it pulsing underneath her pebbled skin. The sound of her heart beat rhythmically in my ears, the arousing noise increasing with each passing second, as her growing fear released adrenaline into her system – her anxieties heightening as one continued to fuel the other.

It was then that I realized my mistake.

Not that I cared to admit it.

Darting my tongue out, she inhaled sharply – tensing in my arms as she readied herself to be bitten, I supposed – releasing a relieved sigh as I lapped gently at the angriest of her lesions before moving my attentions to the others. Another vampire had obviously once done this for her, although I highly doubted it had been Diane. _Perhaps after I finished up here, I would give her old nest a visit, to do a full clean-up – as a Mafioso would say._

Just in case, someone else also believed they had a claim to Miss Stackhouse.

The justification sounded unreasonably thin, even to myself.

"Thank you."

She said meekly, her face awash with confusion and gratitude – her sapphire blue eyes sparkling and hopeful as they peered up at into mine.

Fuck.

I had truly lost control of the situation.

"Make no mistake, Miss Stackhouse, I am _NOT_ here to save you."

I snarled at her, intentionally wrenching hard on her wrists as I straightened up to my full and looming height – tamping down urge to wince as she cried out in pain.

"I meant what I said earlier about wanting to end you," _I did not mean it then, nor did I mean it now_ , "but someone ranked far above me finds you very interesting, and would like to… _meet_ you for herself."

Keep _you for herself –_ I corrected darkly in my head.

Unsure of why I had tried to spare her the worry, since the outcome would be the same.

"No one will miss me."

Miss Stackhouse mused somberly, letting herself collapse onto the dusty, dirt-clod ground as I released her from my grasp – her watery eyes glassy and far off.

For the second time since I had met this young woman, I found myself wondering why she seemed to be almost _hoping_ that I would kill her instead.

I did not like it – not one bit.

"Perhaps you are right, Miss Stackhouse –"

"Sookie."

She asserted confidently, while pushing off of the ground and to her feet.

 _Only this woman would have the balls to interrupt a vampire who had repeatedly threatened her life._

Mildly impressed, I raised my eyebrow, and waited.

"Please, call me Sookie. I don't think it's asking a lot, considering you're about take me to _meet_ ," she finger-quoted, obviously having bought none of my earlier bullshit, "some other vampire, who's probably going to be just as bad as Diane, if not worse."

She was right, more than likely the Queen would be worse – much worse.

I hated that Miss Stack… Sookie was so perceptive.

"As I was saying… perhaps you are right, _Sookie_ ," I amended, unexpectedly pleased by the way her name tasted in my mouth, "but perhaps you are wrong. Only time will tell."

She snorted in response to my statement.

Fucking snorted!

" _Only time will tell_ … That's rich."

She mocked, mimicking the deep tone of my voice in a way I did not appreciate, as she laughed boisterously.

I for one was not amused.

"Oh come on, _Sheriff_ ," she teased almost playfully, bringing a lightness to the situation that threw me slightly off guard – _truly, she was puzzling,_ "Surely, you can see the humor in telling a human, one who's been a vampire's personal decanter for the past month, that she's still got time for people to start missing her. Let's be realistic here; that time has passed."

 _It is a bit funny, when she puts it that way._

I thought to myself, letting my lip curl upwards into what I hoped was only a smirk.

Admittedly, I found Sookie quite… interesting. Not just because Sophie Anne had declared her off-limits, demanding she be _fetched_ the moment it was discovered that Diane had her, but because she had a certain _je n'ais se quoi._ Humans were usually predictable, boring, and honestly not worth my time outside of a fuck or feed. But this particular one was different, markedly so.

Yes, there was much more to Sookie No Middle Name Stackhouse than what met the eye.

And I was absolutely sure that it had nothing to do with her blood.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Happy Independence Day, my fellow Americans! Otherwise, Happy July 4th! I hope that it was a wonderful Wednesday for you, like it was for me._

 _Thanks for reading, and thanks to my betas rachel olsen-williams and MrsKroy - my betas and besties. :) Also a big big thanks to_ _RhododendronsAndLilies who was nice enough to look this chapter over since I was WAY too impatient to wait for my betas._

* * *

"What are you, Miss St… Sookie?"

 _Seriously, he was on this again?_

"A former waitress," I answered curtly, hands placed about my hips, "one with really tasty blood apparently but otherwise nothing special."

Other than the curse of telepathy.

But he didn't need to know that little factoid – it was better that way.

Only a handful of people in all my life knew that I'd been cursed with hearing other people's thoughts – Gran, Jason, and a smattering of come and go family members I didn't care to remember. Gran had insisted, once I was old enough to understand, that I should keep my little quirk under wraps. And I tried my darnedest to.

But sometimes I slipped.

I was only human, I supposed.

"No. You are _more_."

The vampire Sheriff breathed out, crossing his arms as he glared at me expectantly – as though he expected me to lay all of my deepest, darkest secrets at his feet just cause he asked.

 _And not even nicely!_

He had a snowball's chance in hell at getting the truth out of me, so I glared right back at him just as angrily.

"I'm. Just. A. Waitress. _Sheriff_."

I enunciated slowly like he'd been struck by a bad case of stupid, knowing it was equally dumb to essentially bait a vampire – especially one who'd openly bragged about wanting me dead.

 _Get in line, buddy._

He wasn't the first, or even probably the last, vampire that had ever threatened me.

"Eric."

 _Huh_?

Not the response I'd been expecting – not at all.

"Huh?"

I questioned inelegantly, feeling like a parakeet – or maybe I meant a parrot – repeating myself, even though the first exclamation had occurred in my head.

"My name is not _Sheriff_. It's Eric, Eric Northman."

The blonde vampire smirked, using the same tone of voice I'd used when I told him to call me Sookie – his face awash with amusement and mirth.

 _God, he looked so fucking cute right now._

Ugh, I was actually starting to warm up to the guy a bit; there was something really wrong with me.

Sher… Eric hadn't even been nice to me, not really. Well kind of… Although he'd been pretty rough with me – nothing as bad as what Diane, or any of the disco triplets, had done for that matter – he'd also been weirdly gentle. I mean not exclusively, at first and then later he'd been downright cruel – like I'd pretty much expected him to be – but when he healed my bites... _What was up with that?_ Sure, Malcom had done it once or twice, but only because he enjoyed _tearing_ into soft flesh.

It wasn't just a 'the feeling of it' thing for him, but also sort of an auditory 'he liked when my skin crunched beneath his fangs.'

Not a guess – he told me that, verbatim, himself.

I shivered at the memory, only to be caught confused by the jacket suddenly draped about my shoulders. It was… well huge, more like a knee-length coat on my short frame than a jacket, and it smelled almost imperceptibly like the ocean. But ultimately neither of those things had thrown me off-kilter per se. No, it was where the jacket came from that had me all kinds of confuzzled.

Because given the slate gray color, I'd say it was the Sher… Eric's.

 _Could vampires have multiple personalities?_

Because it was looking like the answer was yes.

"Thank you?"

I replied hesitantly – eyes downcast – not meaning for my token of gratitude to sound more like a question than a statement as I nuzzled into the garment, even though I wasn't even a lick chilled.

 _It was only because I'd spent a month without any tenderness or affection_ – I told myself.

Yep, that's why I was acting like this.

Cheese and crackers, I was shit awful at lying.

"Seriously, _this_ is her?!"

My head whipped around to the right, and I spotted a leggy blonde sidling up next to Eric and side-eying me something fierce – looking not at all impressed as she drank me in. I, on the other hand, was floored. Vampire Barbie was dressed to kill, but in a weirdly soccer mom-ish sort of way – pastel cardigan, pearls, and all – even though she didn't look one day over twenty.

Not that you could tell a vampire's age by looking at them.

Hell, she could've been a hundred million years _past_ ancient for all I knew.

"Yep, this is me," I waved my hand from head to toe, "Disappointing, I know."

I deadpanned, feeling not quite so hot in comparison to the pale-faced goddess standing before me, giving me an incredulous look like what I actually _was_ was a fucking joke.

In fairness, I felt like one too.

 _Why the fuck were all these vampires interested in me?_

"Well, she doesn't look like anything special," Vampire Barbie laughed musically – _agreed, lady, a-fucking-greed_ , "but I like her."

It took everything in my power to keep my suddenly slackened jaw from hitting the ground.

 _What was I,_ _the fucking equivalent of catnip to these people?!_

* * *

 _E%S%E%S%E%S%E%S_

* * *

"Do you _have_ to take her to the Queen's tonight, Eric? She's so much fun!"

The blonde vampire, whose name I'd learned was Pam, whined as she finished painting not the second, but the third coat of red polish onto my otherwise filthy nails in the backseat of Eric's escalade.

 _They_ did _look much better this way_.

Only _I_ would bother to look for a bright spot while traveling at breakneck speeds towards my impending doom.

" _Pam-e-la_ ," Eric elongated warningly, his hands gripped tightly on the leather-covered steering wheel as he stared out the front windshield, "Sookie is not a toy here for _your_ amusement."

"Just for _Sophie Anne's_ apparently…"

Pam mumbled indignantly, throwing me a look that said nothing short of _'did he_ really _just fucking say that,'_ which caused me to burst into a fit of unstifled giggles.

The glare I got from Eric in the rearview mirror was worth it.

I mean _really_ , I was probably about to become some Queen's personal bitch – why gloss over it?

Pam had all but insisted to Eric that she accompany us on the trip to New Orleans. Apparently this Queenie had wanted me so bad, she couldn't be inconvenienced to wait even one more night to have me there. _What the fuck was up with that?_ But it hadn't stopped Pam, who from what I could tell was Eric's vampire child, from trying to convince him otherwise.

She told him very boldly that she wanted us to be sisters.

Not only had _that_ not gone over well, but it'd been completely out of nowhere.

 _Cat. Fucking. Nip._

"One more coat, I think," I butted in, trying to cut through the heavy fog of tension between them, "and then you can start of my toes, if you want."

Eric's eyes caught mine in the rearview again – his so full of… something I couldn't quite identify – as Pam squealed in delight, pulling my hands back into her lap to apply another coat.

Maybe I'd die today at the hands of a ruthless vampire queen.

But at the very least I'd be polished and painted.

* * *

 _E%S%E%S%E%S%E%S_

* * *

"Northman! You found her!"

A young red-headed vampire screeched, jumping into Eric's unwilling arms after laying green-tinted eyes on me as we walked into what had been dubbed the Sun Room.

"You brought me my telepath!"

 _What. The. Fuck?!_

Okay now altogether too many things made more sense.

Eric looked downright perturbed, if not a bit crestfallen. _Was he upset he hadn't known what I was or that he wasn't going to be able to keep me?_ Honestly, I figured I'd never know for sure. But he looked upset, one way or another, that much I could say with certainty.

Despite the fact that the _why_ behind his actions still eluded me.

Vampires were so fucking weird sometimes.

"Well I have brought you… Sookie Stackhouse," Eric answered warily, side-eying me something fierce while I feigned shock, "but I cannot promise she is telepathic."

Thank God I'd never admitted any of my most guarded secrets to him.

Lying _really had_ been the right choice.

My Gran would die again if she heard me think that.

"Oh pish-posh."

The overly ornately dressed teenaged vampire waved her hand dramatically – dismissing his negative assertion – as she circled me like I imagined a blood-hungry shark would circle its swimming prey.

"I've heard from a _very_ reliable source that Miss Stackhouse here can hear human thoughts."

Suddenly my cousin Hadley appeared from behind the child Queen, looking altogether human but covered in fresh and healed bites. _Traitorous bitch_. I couldn't believe Hadley had not only given up drugs – the lack of purple bags under her eyes belying her sobriety – but had also given up not only my deepest darkest secret, but also _ME_.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

I was trying not to freak out, but I was failing miserably.

"Hey, it's okay if you can't read anyone's mind," Pam consoled me quietly, whispering at a barely audible volume while discretely pulling my wringing hands apart, "In fact, it's probably better if she's wrong. The Queen's pretty dead set against keeping worthless humans at her beck and call. So if it turns out you're not as special as she thinks, she'll probably let you leave."

 _Got it – not special equals get to go home._

Pam truly was a godsend.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N:_ _Thanks for reading, and thanks to my betas rachel olsen-williams and MrsKroy - my betas and besties. :)_

* * *

It was disturbing how much Pam liked Sookie.

Truly.

Pam in hundreds of years had asked for many things, but all of them had been material in nature. She had never asked to take a child of her own, or for a sibling, for that matter. _She had adored being an only child_. "Had" being the operative word. And while Sookie had playfully declined at my child's request that I should make them both sisters – on my behalf, and most likely in response to my scowl – I could feel how much Pam actually _wanted_ it.

That in itself was a scary notion.

But what troubled me more was that I considered it.

And not even fleetingly…

"You brought me my telepath!"

Sophie Anne's unbridled revelry brought me out of my reminiscent downtime as I shepherded Sookie towards her possible doom.

 _Telepath?!_

That was a surprisingly unwelcome twist of fate.

It was not that Sookie had done a single thing to indicate she could read my thoughts or those even of other vampires, like Diane. While she _had_ managed to get the upper-hand on the 1970s vampire, it had obviously been a product of Diane's own fucking stupidity, and not some sixth sense the woman possessed. I mean _really_ , what self-respecting vampire left their human captive within twelve feet of a piece of wood and a sharp implement, so they could fashion a stake?

But the Queen rarely acted rashly, so my hackles raised high.

Sophie Anne always had been particularly enterprising, and a telepath _would_ be quite the boon.

"Well, I have brought you… Sookie Stackhouse," I responded doubtfully, casting the aforementioned party a side-long glance as her tanned face paled to white and hers eyes widened – in shock or fear, I could not ascertain, "but I cannot promise she is telepathic."

By the Gods – for her sake – I hoped to Valhalla she was not.

 _Where the fuck did_ that _come from?!_

"Oh pish-posh."

The Louisiana Queen enthused dismissively, waving her hand in my direction as her eyes narrowed and fixed upon Sookie – her approaching gait mimicking that of a predator circling her prey.

Because that was exactly what she was doing…

Sizing Miss Stackhouse up, like she was nothing more than a piece of meat.

"I've heard," she drew out, flicking her amber eyes to mine mischievously as she stopped her circular pacing suspiciously in front of an opened door, "from a _very_ reliable source that Miss Stackhouse here can hear human thoughts."

In an unabashedly choreographed move, the Queen's new favorite pet – a blonde-haired brown-eyed woman with no shame and a reputably high tolerance for pain – stepped into sight, causing Sookie's face to fall and pale to an ashen gray. Shit, what were the chances they did not actually know each other? Fucking nil. Which meant she probably _was_ a fucking telepath – just like Sophie Anne had purported.

 _FUCK!_

This situation did not bode well for Miss Stackhouse.

Not at all.

"Hey, it's okay if you can't read anyone's mind," I heard Pam encourage Sookie quietly, her voice so soft only myself and Miss Stackhouse – no, _Sookie_ – could hear her soothing words and tone, "In fact, it's probably better if she's wrong. The Queen's pretty dead set against keeping worthless humans at her beck and call. So if it turns out you're not as special as she thinks, she'll probably let you leave."

 _Doubtful._

If anything it probably would mean the buxom blonde's swift demise _._

But it was uncharacteristically… _nice_ of my progeny to try to instill hope in another being, and even less routine for me to feel bad a human might die. _Sookie is either going to become the Queen's special pet or die for being ordinary_. I rolled the two possible outcomes of our New Orleans excursion around in my mind and found them both particularly distasteful.

Why was I actually fucking bothered by this?

Sookie wasn't _special_ , or at least not like that, and humans died all the time.

I repeated it like a mantra – _humans die all the time… all the time._ I had an inkling as to why discomfort was tugging at the back of my mind, but I ignored it. My face remained completely impassive as Sophie Anne quite literally poked and prodded at the Bon Temps native, falling just short of prying her mouth open to examine her teeth like a showcased pony or pedigreed canine. The supposed telepath – Sookie – took it in stride, considering – wincing only minutely in response to the Queen's harsh ministrations.

"You do _seem_ to be human."

Queen LeClerq declared, stepping back from my blonde-haired blue-eyed charge while casting a chastising glare at her pet blood-bag – pupils fully blown black and full of caged fury staring into deep browns wide and fearful.

 _Somebody. Was. In. Trouble._

Thank the Gods it was not me.

"I _am_ human."

Sookie insisted emphatically, nervousness cascading off of her in waves despite her confidant tone, as she discretely twisted her fingers behind her back – rubbing the skin of her tanned knuckles red.

This was more than nerves; she was trying to hide something big, of that I was sure.

 _Shit, maybe she really was telepathic!_

While my usual inclination would have been to be livid – she had not just deceived me, she had potentially infiltrated my mind – I kept my cool. Suddenly the prospect that Sookie would not survive this little outing to the Queen's abode was looking more and more appealing. _Liar_ , my mind hiss at me as Pam also swung her head in my direction with a look that screamed "fuck you."

Sometimes our Maker-Child bond was little more than a fucking curse.

But still it was the unavoidable price of siring a progeny.

"… us have a drink."

I heard Sophie Anne ask – not that any suggestion was anything short of an order – as my thoughts rejoined the scene at hand.

Sookie had now been forced down to the knees by the twins, and a growl erupted from my throat at the sight of her submissive position – both disgusted at her mistreatment and excited by fantasies it spurred. _Fuck, I was a sick bastard._ And somehow a hair's breadth out of control, despite having spent a thousand years spent schooling my emotions.

"Do not touch her," I snarled at the twins, heaving an unnecessary breath as my expression darkened – my monster barely at bay, "as far as you are all concerned until she is the Queen's… SHE IS MINE!"

Yes, as Neanderthal as it may have been, in that moment I staked my claim.

In my defense, after Diane's death, she had been mine to take.

The twins looked appropriately chastised, stepping back after the Queen smirked her assent – eyes alight with unconcealed mischief – seconds before Sookie howled out her laughter, doubling over from the force of it. "Maybe Cousin Sookie really is just fucking crazy," the human pet mumbled almost inaudibly, but loud enough for all the vampires to hear, as she retreated back a few steps. While the rest of us stood still as statues – unafflicted by the human need to fidget – Pam moved to Sookie's side, threading an arm around her side and pulling the still chuckling human to her feet.

"Alright, sweet pea. The sooner we show these fuckers that you _are_ a little special – just not the way they'd prefer – the sooner we can get this show on the road!"

"Yes, agreed!" The Queen clapped excitedly, "Let us administer the test! Andre, bring in the –"

"A moment please, your majesty."

I interjected respectfully, silently asking for her to remove our audience – a request she fulfilled, giving a flick of her wrist to dismiss her children.

"Be careful with the girl," Sophie Anne addressed Pam in a saccharine-laced tone as the two moved to exit – my child's arm still wrapped protectively about the blonde's waist, "It is not every day we have the opportunity to secure a telepathic pet."

 _Pet_ …

This also did not sit well with me.

"You want the girl."

Sophie Anne stated, wasting no time, after the throne room's soundproof doors closed.

"She is mine, until she is yours. So if you have no use for her…"

"Then you would prefer to keep your claim?"

I nodded slightly, my lips curled into a small smile, "I believe Pam would enjoy having her as a pet."

I resisted the urge to spit out the word like it was stale blood – knowing I had to downplay Sookie's worth to ensure she would not become leverage.

I had already tipped my hand a little too far when I declared her _MINE_ in the first place.

"Your child does seem quite… taken with the girl…"

The Queen agreed cheerfully, twirling one of her red curls around her manicured nail – feigning deliberation as I stood stock-still and waited for her answer, outwardly displaying apathy even as my mind raced.

 _What if she said no?_

Would I accept her answer, or fight it?

It disturbed me – a feeling that was becoming all too familiar when it came to Miss Stackhouse – that I was even considering regicide, fleetingly or otherwise. I had elected to remain Sheriff of Area Five, despite my strength and thousand years, because I had never wanted to be King. I enjoyed my little slice of Shreveport, my mid-paced life. That mere mention of my name instilled fear into others, while my reputation for being just and fair simultaneously demanded loyalty and trust.

I had carved out quite the agreeable routine for myself and Pam.

Would I really be willing to give that up?

"O-kay, Northman," Sophie Anne sing-songed, sounding much more like her teenaged appearance than usual, "If that girl's not a telepath, then she will be yours."

Well, thank the Gods for that.

Of course, if Sookie was a telepath, none of this shit would matter anyway.

 _Fuck!_

* * *

 _A/N: So I apologize for taking such a long break between posting. Since my last update, I've had a lot going on. I got married, was offered a new job, and just last week literally moved across the country. I'm hoping to get back into the habit of writing soon, but please bear with me - there's a lot of cobwebs to shake off here. :)_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N:_ _Thanks for reading, and thanks to my betas rachel olsen-williams and MrsKroy - my betas and besties. :)_

* * *

 _The Queen or the Sheriff? Mr. Grouchy Pants or Ms. Crazy Cakes?_

It was the only thing my mind could focus on, in the situation at hand.

I literally had _no_ other options right now.

Not. A. Fucking. One.

When Eric and the Louisiana Queen had finally let us back into the throne room – Pam's arm thrown protectively around my side, _covering my back_ , as the other vampires growled and hissed – Sophie Anne had made short work of resuming whatever so-called _test_ she had previously planned. Unbeknownst to her, I wasn't a fucking dummy who could be so easily tricked, but then Pam had whispered – so quietly even I had barely been able to hear her – the exact nature of her maker's previous request. Bluntly, he wanted me.

But more apropos to the situation at hand, he only got me if I wasn't a telepath.

So now I had a choice between two evils – lucky me.

It was Ms. Crazy Cakes versus Mr. Grouchy Pants – may the least terrifying of the two win. But of course, the Sheriff did have an ace hidden up his sleeve – Pam. She'd all but shown outright affection for me. Like she weirdly respected me. I mean, even if she changed her mind and decided she just wanted me as a pet – although she'd pretty fervently expressed her desire to keep me around forever – I had no doubt she'd treat me well.

Much better than Diane or any of the other disco triplets had.

Or even her maker had, in the short time I'd known him.

And that was the rub. Could Pam really stop her sire if push came to shove? I didn't really know how that whole "I made you vampire" thing worked, but I imagined it came with a pretty clear parent-child hierarchy – the "my decisions are law" kind of thing. Which could end up being a fairly dangerous situation for me.

Could I trust Pam to keep me safe?

Swallowing deeply – eyes closed – I knew in my gut the answer was an unequivocal yes.

But, could I – no, _should_ I – trust Eric…?

"Sooks," my cousin Hadley addressed me excitedly, grabbing at my hands while I tried to bat hers away – ripping me from my unresolved internal quandaries to rejoin the present, "All ya gotta do, cuz," she said in a hushed whisper like the vampire guards couldn't hear her perfectly – _of course_ , they fucking could – "is be your freaky lil self. Ya know, show dem vampires how's ya special and all. Then Soph…"

Hadley stopped herself then, a fearful look filling her eyes as a crimson blush bloomed across her cheeks – a look akin to embarrassment – something I'd thought my cousin wasn't capable of.

She always had been rather detached from us, from her family – like she didn't wanna fit in.

Maybe she'd finally found a place where she did.

"Queen LeClerq…"

Hadley amended, still at a low but supernaturally audible volume, gazing longingly at the Louisiana monarch – the Sheriff stationed at her side, glaring hotly at me like he was trying to burn me to embers.

 _Maybe Cuckoo Queenie_ was _my best bet._

I thought it – and _loudly_ , with fervor – but in my gut that felt utterly wrong.

"She'll take care of ya, Sooks," my cousin encouraged, pulling me closer to the occupied throne – her strength surprising me despite her semi-emaciated state, "Put ya to work, of course. But mostly let ya lay around like a loaf!" she giggled, like a school girl with a salacious secret, "I mean, ya know these vamps, they ain't even awake during the day, ya know?"

I did know – all too well – not that it made a fucking bit of difference as far as I was concerned.

In my experience, an iron chain on your ankle did wonders to stifle any escape attempts.

"Test. Time!"

Sophie Anne sing-songed, clapping her hands together like an excited child as she rose from her throne to descend the stairs towards me – Hadley suddenly backing away like I was the plague.

That weirdly felt normal.

My family had always been obviously off-put by my _specialness_.

Except Gran. She'd been amazing – supportive and just all-around… well, supportive. I didn't really know how else to describe how easily she'd accepted me. She just… loved me like I was her own – I mean, obviously I was her granddaughter, but somehow it was bigger than that – understanding that I needed a lot of tender love and attention.

Like she'd realized that I'd known my parents had resented me prior to their deaths.

Because they had – so very fucking much.

The pity fest that was "Sookie, party-of-one!" started up in my mind even as the Queen of Louisiana ushered additional people into the room. Their thoughts were screaming so loud, I couldn't help but wonder if they were truly mental. Was that the test? I'd never really had the opportunity to listen in on someone truly wrong in the head, but I imagined the incoherent psycho-babbling would probably sound something like this.

And would be just as nearly impossible to ignore.

But I soldiered on.

Because at some random point – I couldn't say when – I'd definitely picked the cranky Sheriff over the loony Queen. Or I thought I had, planning to totally fail whatever test Sophie Anne threw my way – familial connections be damned, considering Pam as my potential savior – until the onslaught of thoughts was perforated by one lone concern playing on repeat. An almost whispered musing that was somehow as elucidating as it was disturbing.

 _'Gods, I hope the poor girl's telepathic. Lord only know what hells the Northman will subject her to if he gets his claws in her.'_

Quiet. Disconcerting.

The words, and an ever-growing thread of fear, wriggled like an electric current through my mind. Was I betting on the wrong horse? Was I just picking the devil I knew over the one I didn't? I tried to tell myself I wasn't, but the memory of the Sheriff restraining me – pulling me up my wrists, harshly – began to play on repeat in my mind, reminding me that while Miss Crazy Cakes was the unknown, I could count on Mr. Grouchy Pants to be a strict and unsympathetic master. Pam's wishes – as the child in their relationship – were more than likely ancillary to her master's whims.

 _Oh God, was I making a mistake?_

Could exposing my telepathy actually be my ticket to a better life?

I'd already resigned myself to the plain truth that I was never going to be free of vampires – the scars I bore reminding me of said fact – but I'd only _just_ giving up hoping that I'd still manage to be happy again before I died. Was the Queen my chance to grab at a better existence? A bit of mind-reading here, a bit of lounging around there – the short pitch my cousin had tried to sell me was sounding pretty good.

Especially given the alternative.

"Tell me what you hear!"

Sophie Anne said gleefully, with another clap of her hands and a hint of a smirk in her tone – the gleam in her eye mirroring the same sentiment.

 _'Northman'll tear her up brutal, and good… The poor thing.'_

 _That_ errant thought was accompanied by horrifically unpleasant images – _lucky fucking me_ – which had me all but quaking in my boots. But my outward demeanor remained impassive despite the swirling vortex of concerns bumping about my mind. The test still in full swing – a sea of voices ringing in my head – I was most certainly awash in confusion, but I wasn't willing to play my hand yet – pass the test that could lead to my freedom, or maybe to my servitude.

I truly didn't know what to do, or who to pick, and that was obviously the test.

But belonging to the Queen of Louisiana was starting to look like the smart choice.

"I'll take care of you."

Curling her fingers over mine, Pam unexpectedly whispered in my ear, so quietly I doubted even vampire hearing could detect it, as she threw her arm around my shoulder and clutched me to her – perhaps realizing her horse was not winning.

"I'm scared."

I admitted shakenly as I leaned into her comforting hold, not bothering to lower the volume of my voice – knowing I'd never achieve the decidedly low but audible volume Pam had used with me.

Which earned me in a pointed glare from the Sheriff – apparently.

 _Another point to Queenie._

"You'll be mine. Eric will have no say or sway. If that's what you want…"

 _'Diane has nothing on the Sheriff when it comes to this shit… He'll destroy her.'_

The unidentified mind-voice said – almost eagerly – with an accompanying internal laugh.

"You can't really promise that," I trembled disbelievingly – my gaze scrutinizing the floor as my shoulders matched the waver in my voice, "You…"

"I can, and I _will_!"

Pam growled lowly, the rumble in her chest transferring into mine – eyes flicking in a direction assuredly over my bowed head – as I burrowed further into her tightening side embrace.

All the while the Queen continued her bark, ordering me to tell her what I heard – what the masses were thinking – as if I would break any minute and admit my specialness. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. The test seemed ancillary to all my other problems at this point. If I failed, I became Eric's, or Pam's, if her assertion was to be believed – which seemed unlikely – and if I passed, I became the Queen's, and would sit alongside my cousin – doing… God knows what, God knows when…

When I thought about it like that...

 _Did I go with the devil I somewhat knew or the one I didn't?_

In the end, the decision was easy.

Simple. Quick. _Final._

God, I hoped this decision wouldn't be yet another thing I'd come to regret.

 _Here goes fucking nothing…_

* * *

 _A/N: I apologize for taking such a long break between posting. Since my last update, I've had a lot going on. I got married, was offered a new job, literally moved across the country, started a job that's turning out to be the reason people need stress balls, and then lost my baby-boy cat Max after 14 years. I'm hoping to get back into the habit of writing soon, but please bear with me - there's a lot of cobwebs to shake off here._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N:_ _Thanks for reading, and thanks to my betas rachel olsen-williams and MrsKroy - my betas and besties. :)_

* * *

"Ow… Ow! OWWW!"

Sookie screeched at an increasing volume as she thrashed back and forth, trying with all her might to release her hands, squirming ungracefully in an attempt to extract herself from her current captor's inhuman hold.

"Keep struggling."

Her captor offered unceremoniously, giving no credence to Sookie's outwardly emotional response – which now included crying – while knocking them both over so Sookie was flat on her back.

"Stop! _Please_! You're hurting me!"

Sookie cried out – her Southern twang prominent as ever – apparently hoping her quick and frantic tone would make it sound like her words rang true, although I could see they were _mostly_ a falsehood.

My child – her "captor" of sorts – would never hurt her, or ever want to hurt her; she knew it just as much as Pam did.

But my progeny wanted her surrogate sister strong – ready for anything.

The Queen had been none too pleased with Sookie's choice to go with me over herself. Both Pam and I had been not only preparing ourselves, but the Stackhouse woman for the potential fallout. Expectedly, Sophie Anne LeClerq was a bit petulant – a byproduct perhaps of being turned at a teenaged year – if not also a bit unexpectedly vengeful.

She had already tried to overrule Sookie's choice once, appealing to higher powers.

Her argument falling on deaf ears.

"They won't release you just because you're in pain," Pam admitted contritely as she loosened her grip, her head dropping in something akin to guilt and shame, "That'll actually make it worse, admitting your weakness, I mean. They'll… get off on it."

I could tell Pam hated that it was true.

And that, as the words slipped from her mouth, her human friend tensed underneath her.

Fear.

That was the smell roiling off Sookie in waves, manifesting in barely suppressed shudders, and causing her heart to flutter loudly at a beat akin to a hummingbird's wings. Visibly, she sought to tamp it down, to force calm into herself – stop the unbidden rush of adrenaline into her veins – but it was an expectedly futile effort. Even knowing Pam would never hurt Sookie, it was obvious her hackles were raised high.

As were mine, to some degree.

Although my placid façade would _never_ betray it.

"AHHHH!"

The knee jammed into Pam's groin took my progeny entirely by surprise – and surely hurt like a motherfucker – causing her to curl momentarily into herself and away from the young woman otherwise pinned beneath her.

Slowly and deliberately, I began to clap – the sound permeating the concrete-slabbed space.

Startled, Sookie sprang to her feet and swung around to face me, her fists clenched and readied for a fight.

" _Impressive_ ," I noted appreciatively, vamping out from my hiding spot – my left eyebrow arched in unveiled amusement – my sudden appearance increasing Sookie's momentary stupefaction, "my child is not one who is easily caught off guard."

Offering a hand down to Pam, I pulled her up, positioning myself between her and her charge – knowing neither was a threat to the other, but secretly wanting to be as close to the human as possible.

I was still annoyed by my unexpected and detestable attraction to the blonde bloodbag – to the small human who had captured my attention, trust, and affection.

Chagrined that the breather returned all in kind.

To Pam, but clearly not to me.

"I'm going to go to bed," Sookie yawned with a hand half-covering her mouth, exaggeratedly whooshing air out in a fashion that felt more feigned than real, "Pam… I'll see you later?"

It stung my heart that she _still_ worried she would wake up quite literally in the clutches of the Louisiana queen.

So much so that she clung to my progeny tightly – even in sleep.

The human woman's inconsolable night terrors had become a daily occurrence. In an attempt to thwart or stifle them – outwardly explained, for _my_ own good and sanity – my child had taken to _cuddling_ with Sookie when she should be subject to the sandman's whims, though often was not fully. But exhaustion, and deep sleep, would only finally claim the breather when I slipped into the room and whispered folktales in my native Swedish tongue while running my fingers lightly through her hair.

Throughout my disgusting display of weakness, Pam, loyal perhaps to a fault, remained thankfully silent.

Even as our tie filled with irritation and thinly-veiled jealousy.

Both hers and mine.

Those experiences broke my undead heart. But I couldn't stop – offering _myself_ , my presence – to Miss Stackhouse, as much as it pained me, my progeny, and seemingly her. Sookie's nerves and hummingbird heartbeat spiked on days I stayed, although she ultimately slipped into blissful oblivion, next to her with my progeny spooned behind her, my arm wrapped protectively around her waist as I laid with her head pressed against my chest. I brushed it off, given how she nuzzled her lightly-freckled face against me, but couldn't help but wonder if I gained more from our closeness than she did.

After all, she only cuddled close during near sleep.

Did that even count as affection?

 _No_. I knew the answer to that question was no, but I hoped she was warming to the idea of spending her human life in the company of myself and Pam. Not only because it was the choice she had made in New Orleans, but because I wanted to see her smile. It was something I had yet to see.

Slipping away before the sun rose, and Sookie woke up, tended to leave me at a disadvantage.

An outsider, a specter of sorts, offering attentions only when they could not be gleaned.

* * *

" _Eric_ …"

Sookie breathed out tenderly, nuzzling her scrunched face further into my clothed chest, as she slept soundly, nestled between myself and my progeny.

Encouraged by her sleep-talking, I wrapped my arm around the human, resting my hand upon her waist, pleased to feel fat forming upon her one-time obscenely bony hip. She had been much too thin when she had come under our care – previously left without the most basic of necessities. Pam had taken to fattening Sookie up, which was a daunting task at best.

It had been altogether too long since she had been allowed food without strings.

Unsurprisingly, trust had taken some time to build up.

"Sookie," I whispered almost inaudibly – aware Pam could still hear me, "I will always protect you, min älskling. Du äger mitt hjärta."

How could I not tell her that she owned my heart?

 _Of course_ , she did.

I could not place when it happened, when I fell in love with Sookie. But it had happened fast, and once I had realized it, it had been impossible to ignore. Pam had taken to teasing me for it – endlessly – but in good fun. I could tell through our maker-child bond that she loved that I loved Sookie.

Because she wanted to keep the human, for always.

Not as a human, of course, but still.

"No! Nooooo!"

Sookie began to scream, as she sometimes did while caught up in her dreams – her curled hands batting against my clothed chest as if she was trying to hurt me or push me away.

I _preferred_ to sleep naked without the constriction of fabric.

It was one of the many inconveniences I happily bore for the woman I loved.

"Shhhh…"

Pam soothed quietly, trying to calm her still-breathing friend's nightmares, slowly drawing her hand into Sookie's hair from behind to gently fingercomb it, turning the human's cries into tearless whimpers.

I repressed the growl that tried to escape my throat as I watched my child soothe the woman that I loved, knowing there was no threat there even while my instincts attempted to kick in. Ever since I had admitted to myself that I held Sookie in my heart, my demon had struggled to break free – to claim her for his own. He wanted to keep her forever, to own her.

Consciously, I felt much the same.

But I ignored my basest, and present, instincts – _as much as was possible_.

"Eri-c, don't l-leave me."

Sookie hiccupped quietly, still succumbed by sleep, nuzzling her face further into my chest she inhaled deeply – her breathing evening out as she burrowed against me as closely as possible.

I smiled, broadly.

I could not remember the last time I had done that openly.

Softly resting my chin atop Sookie's head as she drifted back into a deep sleep, I caught Pam's smirking gaze, and still unabashedly sustained my pleased expression. My child's stare was not challenging or teasing, but filled with joy. She only wanted for my happiness, as I did for her. As she did for the human sheltered between us.

This human… woman… Sookie was _ours_ now.

Family.

Holding my love close, I imagined our story was going to be long, angst-filled, and full of difficulties, if the past had been any indication. She wanted me near, in sleep when she was most vulnerable. That was something we could work with. Trust would be hard won, and built slowly overtime, but the base for it was there.

Earning her faith, her confidence would be worth it.

Always and forever.

From this moment on, I vowed to myself that I would never let anyone or anything come between us. I would never let the world tear us apart. She was my mate, my soul, the other half of me, and that was a precious thing I had no intents to squander. I had lived too long, too hard, to ignore happiness when it stared me in the face.

Overwhelmed by that thought, and catching Pam's knowing eyes, I smiled again.

 _Yes, because of this human, nothing would ever be the same._

* * *

 _A/N: I apologize for taking such a ridiculously long break between posting. Since my last update, I've had a lot going on. I got married, was offered a new job, literally moved across the country, started a job that's turning out to be the reason people need stress balls, and then lost my baby-boy cat Max after 14 years and then more recently my wonderful grandmother. I'm hoping to get back into the habit of writing soon, but please bear with me - there's a lot of cobwebs to shake off here._


End file.
